


Separation Anxiety

by LerxstInSpace



Series: Broken Mirror-verse [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam and Curtis were bros you can't change my mind, Alternate Reality Black Paladin Adam (Voltron), M/M, Nightmares, POV Adam, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Repressed Memories, Shiro Got Better, Shiro and Adam both have issues, Some Humor, Some Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 04:35:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18242486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LerxstInSpace/pseuds/LerxstInSpace
Summary: Takashi had flown the other Black Lion. He knew what kind of firepower it was packing. He knew what it was capable of, even by itself. And he knew Adam was a pretty good pilot.Apparently none of this was enough to reassure him that Adam wasn’t going to get himself blown up every time he flew a mission. He could barely fly the shortest, most routine patrols in the safest parts of the known universe without Takashi threatening to send the MFE fighters or a couple of Lions or on one notable occasion, whole-ass Voltron out to back him up if he so much as sneezed.[In which Shiro is kind of overprotective and Adam is feeling around the edges of a particularly nasty repressed memory. Also there's a radio station.]





	Separation Anxiety

“So, uh... not that I plan on using it for anything inappropriate and neither do you, I hope, but...” Adam laughed a little. “How private is this channel actually going to be?”

 

“Don’t say anything you wouldn’t want Curtis to hear,” Takashi replied. “Low bar, right?”

 

 _“Boy.”_ God, Adam had missed having friends his own age to talk to, and he’d been beyond relieved to find out that he and Veronica and Curtis had been close in this reality too. “Hey, Curtis? We need to hang out, buddy. I missed you.”

 

“Oh man, I know, I missed you too! Just let me know when you want to--uh, hang on. I might cut out on you for a sec, just gotta--” There was an unpleasant burst of what sounded like staticky feedback that even Black-2 seemed to cringe at. “Whoa! Sorry, that wasn’t supposed to happen but... okay, looks like you’re good to go now. Yeah, I know, stuff keeps coming up and... _ugh.”_

 

Yeah. Adam kind of felt bad about that. They ate lunch together once in a while when their schedules allowed, but that had been about it since Adam showed up in this reality. If Lotor’s fan club wasn’t tearing shit up, Sendak’s fan club was. Or Zarkon’s. Or the fucking space pirates were doing their thing. And when none of that was going on, other stuff kept coming up. There’d been about a week of horrible medical stuff with Takashi which, thank God, ended in the best possible way. There’d been that trip home. There were classes and training flights with the Paladins and the MFE pilots and adjustments to Adam’s arm because that little hitch in the wrist came back again and this time Takashi couldn’t get it out.

 

And now they were running around on the other side of the universe because Sendak’s fan club was showing its ass again. But while Adam was on a long and boring routine patrol and things were relatively quiet, Takashi figured this would be a good time to set up a private comm channel for the two of them, and Curtis was all too happy to help with that.

 

“Hit me up if it gets slow, we’ll go to the rec deck or something,” Adam said. “Goes for you too, Ronnie.”

 

“Yeah, that sounds great! Oh--Adam, while I’ve got you here...” Adam heard Curtis draw a deep breath and let it out in an even deeper sigh with just the faintest little hint of a groan at the end of it. “Admiral Iverson has asked me to remind you about Garrison policy regarding use of personal electronics during on-duty hours, specifically playing music in the cockpit while you are on patrol...”

 

“Why the hell is he asking _you_ to do it? Why not sic _the Captain_ on me?”

 

“Maybe he figures it’s a communications thing? Or he thinks you’ll actually listen to me? We just don’t know. Anyway...” Curtis cleared his throat and launched into the spiel he’d been told to deliver. It was all Adam could do to keep from just busting out laughing. The longer Curtis went on with this shit, the more that begrudging monotone gave way to the most hilarious passive-aggressive mocking singsong and the more obvious it was that he did not give one single solitary fuck about any of it and was just passing on a message he was told to pass on. It didn’t help that Takashi was quietly snort-laughing in the background, and Veronica was laughing _her_ ass off even farther in the background. Adam knew that if Curtis wasn’t so damn polite, he would absolutely without question be making jerking-off motions while he was going over all this. He was definitely rolling his eyes, though. And possibly making the jerking-off motions in his head.

 

“...in accordance with regulation 33-9 chapter blah blah blah paragraph whatever, this is--sir, I’m sorry but this is stupid.”

 

Takashi cleared his throat. “I... I think that’ll do, Curtis.”

 

Curtis lowered his voice, but not so much that Takashi wouldn’t be able to hear him. “Guess how much _the Captain_ cares about this. Go on. Guess.”

 

“I’m going to guess... about as much as you do.” Adam heard Takashi snickering in the background again.

 

“Look, I’ve been there and done that and I know it can get boring as hell out there,” Takashi said. “if blasting some music helps you stay focused on patrol, I’m all for it. Do what you need to do. What Iverson doesn’t know won’t hurt him or anyone else.”

 

“Just remember to turn it off before you call in, even on the private channel,” Curtis continued, ”and honestly nobody whose opinion matters is ever going to say anything about it.”

 

“Got it. See you in... about six hours.”

 

“Don’t forget to check in every hour,” Takashi said.

 

“I won’t.”

 

“And call in if you run into trouble.”

 

“I will.”

 

“And if you--”

 

 _“Sir,”_ Curtis interjected, in that gentle but vaguely warning tone he used when Takashi was getting carried away like this.

 

“I’ve got it, Takashi.” Adam knew he meant well by it, but... yeah.

 

* * *

 

Adam was finally starting to really settle into his life in this reality, but it was kind of hard sometimes. Sometimes he still felt restless in his downtime, heard that little voice in his head screaming _how can you even think about resting while there’s a war on?_ Sometimes it still felt alien to have downtime at all. Sometimes he just couldn’t relax and ended up on the training deck or in the simulator when he really needed to be asleep.

 

There were still holes in his memory. Sometimes he could peer just far enough over the edge of them to know that there was something horrible at the bottom. Like those three jagged scars on his right side. He knew he’d gotten them fighting Haggar. He remembered her or maybe one of her druids or something choking him out, wearing Takashi’s face just to fuck with him while they did it. He remembered the pain when she tore into him. But everything between that and waking up in a cryopod with a new set of scars was a blur and that was probably for the best.

 

Sometimes he had nightmares and remembered them. Sometimes he woke up screaming and didn’t know why. Sometimes certain noises or smells or combinations of words set off panic attacks. But falling into some semblance of a familiar routine was helping all of that happen a little less frequently. So was therapy.

 

It was helping Takashi too, Adam could see that. They were both still in the early stages of that, still just sort of feeling around the edges of all the horrible shit they’d both been through, still steering clear of the holes in both of their memories for now. But they were both learning some band-aid strategies for dealing with the fallout in the short term, and even that was an improvement.

 

But there was one thing Takashi was still having a lot of trouble with, and every time Adam tried to talk to him about it he brushed it off or changed the subject or got defensive or just shut the whole conversation down.

 

Takashi had flown the other Black Lion. He knew what kind of firepower it was packing. He knew what it was capable of, even by itself. And he knew Adam was a pretty good pilot.

 

Apparently none of this was enough to reassure him that Adam wasn’t going to get himself blown up every time he flew a mission. He could barely fly the shortest, most routine patrols in the safest parts of the known universe without Takashi threatening to send the MFE fighters or a couple of Lions or on one notable occasion, whole-ass Voltron out to back him up if he so much as sneezed.

 

On the one hand, Adam appreciated the fact that Takashi wanted him to stay safe. Of course he did. On the other... he really didn’t need to be pulling anyone else off their patrol routes or designated targets like that. Fortunately, Keith responded well to being told to use his best judgment instead of jumping off whatever he and the other Paladins might be doing to come babysit the other Black Lion. Griffin... not so much, and Adam suspected he might be nursing a mild grudge over the whole “adult supervision” thing. But at least he responded well to being gently reminded what happened that time Adam flew backseat with him and he made the grievous error of damning Adam’s piloting skills with faint praise just before offering Adam the stick.

 

At any rate, most of the time, by the time his “reinforcements” got done cleaning up what they needed to clean up and arrived on the scene Adam had already taken care of business.

 

It was hard not to take it personally, and it was starting to get on his nerves.

 

* * *

 

A couple of days later, after Adam came back from yet another routine patrol that hit a minor and easily dispatched bit of unpleasantness, after he got Black-2 comfy in its hangar and gave his debrief report, there was one more stop to make before he called it a day--Takashi’s office, for one of those amazing post-mission hugs. No matter how annoyed Adam might be, those hugs made it impossible to stay that way for long.

 

“You okay?” Takashi asked, as he always did.

 

“Yeah. It was just a few stray drone fighters.” Drones weren’t the most dangerous thing he could have run afoul of out there. They were only as good as their AI and they were pretty easily dispatched by a creative pilot, which Adam was. “You know you didn’t need to send anyone.”

 

“Just wanted to be sure.” Takashi ran his fingers through Adam’s hair and kissed the side of his head and God, it was almost enough to knock out the lingering bits of disgruntlement. “Besides, Lance needed the target practice.”

 

“Well, if you’d told me that ahead of time I would’ve left him a couple to practice on instead of blowing them all up before he got there.” And right away, Adam cringed a little at his own tone--that definitely came out a lot snippier than he meant it to. “Sorry. Just--look, I promise I’ll tell you if I need help, okay? You don’t need to pull anyone else off their patrol to come help me shoot fish in a barrel like that.”

 

Takashi opened his mouth, possibly to argue the point further, but decided against it.“You want to meet up for lunch later, or...?”

 

“Sure,” Adam sighed, snuggling into Takashi’s shoulder. Shut down again. “Think I’m gonna hit the training deck first.”

 

* * *

 

Usually Adam’s post-mission excess adrenaline burn-off routine involved beating the absolute shit out of something with six feet of quarterstaff-shaped bayard, or running on the treadmill until his legs wouldn’t hold him up anymore. And that was exactly what he planned on doing until he walked in and noticed Curtis over in the far corner.

 

He stood barefoot on one end of a mat, boneless from the hips up, hands wrapped around the backs of his ankles. Came up halfway, back straight and parallel with the floor, hands braced against his shins. Boneless again. Then up, all the way up, arms sweeping overhead.

 

Huh. Since when was Curtis into yoga? Well, whatever. Yoga wasn’t really Adam’s thing but he _was_ the one who said they needed to hang out, after all,  and maybe it’d do his mind some good to try slowing down instead of just burning himself out for once.

 

So Adam headed on over and set his bag down. “Mind if I join you?”

 

“Oh, hey.” Curtis opened his eyes and flashed Adam a grin. “Sure, pull up a mat and kick your shoes off.”

 

They started nice and slow and easy. Mountain pose. Sweep arms up, fold forward, halfway lift, fold, hop back to plank. Halfway down, up dog, down dog. Some variation on a theme of low lunge on each side. Warrior one, warrior two, triangle--wait, fuck, since when was there a warrior _three!?_

 

And then... well, so much for slow and easy.

 

Adam did his best to keep up--he liked to think he was pretty limber, but this was ridiculous. It didn’t help that he wasn’t quite used to his new arm yet. It didn’t hurt. It seemed to be working right; that little hitch hadn’t come back since Pidge tinkered with it. It went where he wanted it to go, and it held his weight when he needed it to. But it was still new and it still felt weird, especially when he tried to balance on it. As much as he’d hated the way it’d felt before Pidge and Allura scraped all the Galra crap out of it, at least he’d kind of been used to the constant ache by the time he cut the damn thing off... ugh, no, definitely didn’t need to be thinking about _that_ while he was trying not to fall on his face right in front of his best friend.

 

Curtis, bless him, was the most patient coach Adam could ask for. Every time he noticed Adam struggling or heard him cursing under his breath he demonstrated a modification to the pose, or sometimes an easier one that worked the same parts, or just handed Adam a foam brick thing or offered him a steady shoulder for balance.

 

This shit went on for what felt like about thirty years, but eventually the string of standing poses interspersed with the occasional plank-halfway down-up dog-down dog thing gave way to some relatively easy seated stretches and stuff.

 

“Okay, hey, you did great. Now...” Curtis just sort of unrolled onto his mat, flat on his back. “Corpse.”

 

“Can we please call it literally fucking _anything_ else?” Adam asked, having come way too close on way too many occasions to actually becoming one himself.

 

“How about Sponge?”

 

“Better. How does it go?”

 

“Like this. On your back, let your feet kind of flop out like this, palms up, and just be still and relax for a few minutes.”

 

“What’s the catch?”

 

“The what now?”

 

Adam did as Curtis did, but... “Just... lay here? And do nothing? That sounds way too easy.”

 

“You’d think that,” Curtis said. “One of the teachers from my class back home says some people think it’s the hardest pose.”

 

Lying there on the floor doing nothing? Hard? _Pfft._ After all the twisty bendy balancey shit Adam had just done, lying on the floor doing nothing would be a breeze. All he had to do was lie there on his back and be still. Easy.

 

And it _was_ easy.

 

It was easy for the duration of two deep breaths. And that had to be enough of this. Right?

 

Apparently not. Curtis wasn’t getting up.

 

...shit. How long were they supposed to stay like this? Sure, Curtis said “a few minutes” but he couldn’t have really meant like... actual literal minutes, plural?

 

Adam suddenly felt _very_ self-conscious.

 

Here he was, on the training deck, with all these people running and lifting and sparring, and he and Curtis were lying on their backs on the floor doing nothing. Was anyone watching? Was _everyone_ watching? Yeah. Two guys just lying on the floor doing nothing on the training deck. Everyone was watching. And judging. Maybe pointing and laughing a little. Maybe taking pictures. And the second they got back to Earth, those pictures would be all over social media with smartass captions and ironic hashtags.

 

Were they done yet?

 

Adam’s nose started itching. And he couldn’t seem to get his shoulders situated right. And his arm still felt weird in a way he couldn’t really describe. It wasn’t _bad_ weird, he realized. It was just kind of a low hum woven into the background noise of his mind, but now he had absolutely nothing else to do but notice it.

 

How much longer were they going to just lie there doing nothing?

 

He tried to relax. Tried to clear the thoughts out of his mind. It was like trying to sweep water out of a leaky boat with a broom.

 

He realized he was clenching his jaw. Took a deep breath and willed it to relax. Realized his shoulders were crawling towards his ears. Another deep breath. He relaxed his shoulders and opened one eye halfway to see if Curtis was still doing this.

 

He was. Fucking Curtis, just lying there perfectly still with his eyes closed and his face peaceful, like this was as easy as--well, as easy as lying on the floor doing nothing should have been.

 

Adam shut that eye again and huffed out a breath. How about... slowly and systematically relaxing everything starting from the top of his head and working down? That worked pretty well until he got about halfway down his back, and then his brain decided to remind him why he was on the training deck to begin with and what had happened on that patrol and everything tensed up all over again.

 

“Hey.” Curtis reached over and gently nudged his arm. “Whatever’s on your mind, just let it go for now. You can pick it up when we’re done if you need to.”

 

For fuck’s sake, was he really so tense and fidgety that Curtis could tell from two feet away, with his eyes closed!?

 

Just... let it go, huh? Well, that was worth a try. Adam pictured the nagging annoyance of being sent unnecessary backup yet again as a thing, a thing he could put in a big cardboard box labeled _insecurity & related bullshit _in big black letters. Just... set the box down and walk away from it for five minutes. He could do that much, right?

 

He imagined himself putting the box down. But when he tried to let go of it, he discovered that his hands had been duct-taped to the damn thing and he ended up spilling the contents everywhere.

 

* * *

 

Even as frustrating as that yoga session was, it still helped Adam burn off most of his sour mood before he met Takashi for lunch. What _was_ for lunch today, anyway? Not that there was a lot of point in asking, they’d been underway long enough to need a supply stop on a friendly planet and that meant a whole lot of stuff showing up on the menu that you just didn’t ask about if you valued your sanity and your appetite. As long as it wasn’t fucking hot dogs or some alien version thereof, Adam didn’t care if the scrambled eggs were purple or the meatballs sometimes had seeds.

 

Takashi was a little pickier when he had the luxury of choice, but it wasn’t like he had the option of skipping the galley and ordering a pizza out here. Though he probably thought Adam didn’t know about that stash of peanut butter, or that he was still eating it right out of the damn jar with a spoon when he didn’t have time for a sit-down lunch (or when Vrepit Sal was serving up heaping helpings of Hard No).

 

Still, they met outside the galley and took a moment to scout out the lunch offerings and--more importantly--the crew’s reaction to them.

 

Familiar vegetables--broccoli and squash and stuff, probably grown on board. Thick slice of normal-looking bread with a pat of something close enough to butter on the side. Neither of them could seem to figure out what the hell that mushy-looking baby-pink stuff was. Mashed root vegetables of some kind? Alien grits? Well, whatever it was, people were eating it and not making faces or spitting it out. As for the meat, it just looked like a chopped steak, mushroom gravy and all. No telling what kind of animal it might have come from, and Adam wasn’t about to ask.

 

“Looks safe enough,” Takashi said, and Adam nodded.

 

They went through the line, got their lunch, and found a place to sit. The food was decent enough. That chopped steak thing was kind of greasy though, and when Adam looked up to see Takashi bolt down three bites of it in rapid succession he felt a thin tendril of something cold and slimy reach up and ever so lightly caress his heart. He did the math--how long had it been since Takashi had taken his meds, how long would it take the side effects to hit, would he be okay until the end of his shift or--

 

“Adam? You okay?”

 

Adam blinked a few times and shook his head. “Yeah.” They didn’t need to worry about that anymore, he reminded himself again. Takashi didn’t need the meds that caused that whole problem anymore. Greasy mystery meat wasn’t going to make him sick. ...well, it _probably_ wasn’t going to make him sick, there was always a non-zero chance of that when chow hall or galley food was in the equation, but never mind that. “Anything else ugly brewing out there?” he asked, more to get his mind out of that particular abyss than anything, and Takashi shook his head.

 

“Not right this minute, no. We’re following up on some leads, but looks like there’s nothing but the kind of drones you ran into in this neck of the woods.” He gave a forkful of the pink mush a sniff, shrugged, and took a bite. “Huh. Tastes like potatoes. ...but yeah. You guys can take it easy for the rest of the day if you want. Get some rest while you can.”

 

“Hm.” Adam tried the pink stuff. Yep. Potatoes. Maybe a little sweeter, a little tangier, but... potatoes. “Speaking of rest, how are _you_ holding up?”

 

“A hard limit of fourteen hours a shift has been imposed on me except in the case of an actual shit-vs.-fan event,” Takashi said in the same passive-aggressive mocking singsong Curtis had used for that gentle reminder about personal electronics on patrol.

 

“Good,” Adam said, and he relished the little scowl that got out of Takashi. “Imposed by who?”

 

Takashi stabbed a mushroom with his fork. “Veronica and Curtis. Sometimes Coran. Sometimes Keith. And now they all threaten to tattle to _you_ if I’m pushing it.”

 

Adam gave some serious thought to trying to stop the wicked grin slowly spreading across his face and decided against it. Yeah, that made him feel a lot better.

 

* * *

 

Another day, another long routine patrol. Another five hours of absolutely nothing happening so far, another five hourly check-ins, another five offers of backup if Adam needed it, another five increasingly annoyed assurances that no, he did not need it because _nothing was happening._

 

But somewhere around the seven-hour mark, Adam picked up a really weird signal.

 

He turned his music off and listened. Didn’t sound like a distress call. Didn’t sound like a nav beacon. Didn’t sound like anything he’d ever heard--no, actually, that wasn’t entirely true. It _did_ kind of sound like something he’d heard, but he wasn’t sure if it leaned more towards dubstep or glitch hop... _“Atlas,_ I’m picking up something super weird out here, let me patch it through to you... are you hearing this?”

 

“Can’t hear it over your music.” Oh good, Curtis was on duty. “Turn it off so I can--”

 

“It _is_ off! You’re hearing what I’m picking up!”

 

“Oh! Wow! Huh... yeah, that _is_ weird. Let me see if I can pick it up from here... okay, got it.” Adam heard a soft, sheepish laugh. “It’s actually... kind of a banger.”

 

“I know, right?” Adam laughed. “I’m kinda tempted to record it and stick it in the playlist I’m definitely not listening to out here.” They both had a good laugh at that. “But what the hell _is_ it? Can you figure out where it’s coming from?”

 

“Hang on, let me see if I can trace it...” There was a pause. “Okay, that’s even weirder. It’s just vanilla audio, no encryption, doesn’t seem to have anything else embedded in it but it’s bouncing off a whole bunch of relays like whoever’s broadcasting it is trying to mask their location...”

 

“So definitely not a nav beacon or a distress call...” Adam frowned as Curtis did whatever it was he did. The sound wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, he kind of liked it. Dubstep-or-maybe-glitch-hop wasn’t really his genre of choice, but this wasn’t bad and he found himself drumming his fingers along to its beat on the armrest of the pilot seat.

 

Then the sound changed, crossfading into another sound, and this one _definitely_ had a beat to it. Adam thought about that basement studio he’d left behind and wondered, not for the first time, whether his counterpart had the same setup and if so, what had become of it. He sure wished he had better recording tackle than his phone to sample this.

 

...was that a voice? Was that... _singing?_ It probably wasn’t, but it sure as hell sounded like singing... maybe it was some alien language that sounded like singing. But if that were the case, shouldn’t the universal translator be translating it into normal speech instead of just rendering it as singing in English?

 

“This is the weirdest shit,” Adam said.

 

“No kidding. Okay. Hard to say for sure but I think I’ve got it pinned down. There’s a, uh... a trash nebula not too far off your route. I’m sending you coordinates. Looks like the signal’s coming from right in the middle of it.”

 

A trash nebula. A galactic garbage dump in a sector that might be harboring nastiness, but hadn’t shown any of it in seven hours. Okay. Should be safe to take Black-2 in for recon, at least. “I’ll check it out,” Adam said. “Tell _the Captain_ I do not need any of the Paladins or the MFE squadron or the whole-ass _Atlas_ to follow me in yet, I’ll yell if that changes.”

 

“I’ll tell him,” Curtis said in a tone that warned against getting one’s hopes up that it’d actually work. “Stay safe out there.”

 

“Will do,” Adam replied. “I’ll call in soon as I figure out what’s going on.”

 

The trash nebula wasn’t far away. The trip was just long enough that Adam heard the sound crossfade into a different sound a few more times. Sometimes it had a beat, sometimes it had a voice, sometimes it had both, sometimes it was just a collage of sounds that happened to play nice together. There was one sort of unpleasant one with an awkward rhythm and lot of discordant industrial-sounding noises in it, but for the most part the sounds coming from the trash nebula were interesting and easy on the ears and could probably be danced to.

 

Black-2 scanned the area and didn’t seem to register any immediate threats. No ships, no weapons, no mines, no explosive gases, no shields, nothing. But on a huge island of debris at the center of the nebula there was a rickety scrap metal tower jutting upward, covered in transmitter dishes and blinking lights and graffiti. And at its foot there was a weird little shack of a base covered with more graffiti, with a banged-up little shuttle of uncertain origin parked nearby. There must have been a gravity generator around, because the shuttle sat nice and steady on the ground without being tethered to it.

 

Shit. Was this a space pirate comm station? “Rickety + graffiti” _was_ kind of the space pirate aesthetic, after all. But the space pirates that were organized enough to have bases of any kind tended to have some kind of security on them, and the little wannabe pirates that other pirates beat up weren’t well-organized enough to have fixed bases at all. Those just sort of drifted around in whatever marginally spaceworthy ships they could scrounge up, letting their mouths write a lot of checks their asses couldn’t cash.

 

There were some small, colorful designs on the rear end of that shuttle. As Black-2 drew closer, Adam could see they kind of looked like... bumper stickers!?

 

This just kept getting weirder by the minute.

 

Adam found a safe place to park Black-2 and continued on foot. He circled the shack and on the far side, he found an airlock with a keypad. The hacking tools Pidge left in Adam’s arm made short work of it; it was as if whoever put the keypad there had set the password to _password_ and called it good.

 

The inside of the shack was dark and dingy. The air was breathable, if a bit stale and moist. He passed what looked like a little kitchen area--food goo dispenser, dishes in a basin, colorful packets of what Adam guessed was some sort of alien junk food.

 

The sound came from a room farther ahead, and Adam drew his bayard--the sword this time, no room in here for the staff. His gut, much like Black-2’s sensors, didn’t seem to register any immediate threats but he’d been wrong before. Better to have it ready, just in case.

 

There was one alien of uncertain origin sitting at a console of some kind, with what looked like a comically huge pair of headphones on their head. Adam watched them press some buttons and adjust some sliders, and the sound crossfaded into a new sound yet again. Then the alien got up and crossed the room to a set of shelves loaded with what looked like storage drives of some kind. They perused the contents of the shelf for a while, sort of gently bopping in place to the beat of the sound while they did. They took a few drives off the shelf--all of them emblazoned with brightly-colored logos, at least one of which Adam had seen on a sticker on the shuttle outside.

 

And then as they turned to head back to their seat, they spotted Adam standing in the doorway with a handful of sword-shaped bayard.

 

Okay. Clearly this guy(?) wasn’t hostile. How could Adam be so sure of that? Well, a hostile alien probably wouldn’t have screamed, treaded air for a few seconds, and then fallen on their ass and sent their headphones and storage drives skittering all over the floor. The alien opened their mouth, and out came a string of hysterical-sounding but utterly unintelligible nonsense.

 

 _Having some translation problems,_ Adam told Black-2. He felt his Lion make some adjustments, and then--

 

“--a dinnae putta quiznakin pinpad onna quiznakin dooer jus so’s any«untranslatable» could stroll in offa the--” The alien squinted all four of their eyes and looked Adam up and down, took in the armor and the weapon and... “Ah bimbobbicks, tellit yain’t wi’ the Gee Bee Ayy...”

 

Shit. Whatever language the alien was speaking, even Adam’s universal translator could barely keep up with it. He felt Black-2 try and tweak it some more, then felt something like the Lion giving him a helpless shrug-- _best I can do, sorry._ At least he could sort of understand the guy(?) now, but... wow. “I’m sorry, the... the GBA?”

 

The alien shook all three pointer fingers at him. “Doont act lak ye dunnae wat am tellin boot, ya yelmor-twaddlin stooge! Alway’ some«untranslatable» wi’ the Galra Broadcast Authority goin boot tryina shut us wee indie stations doon!”

 

What the hell!? Even the words that came across loud and clear didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Stations? _Galra Broadcast Authority?_ Why would the alien think he was from some kind of broadcast authority, here to shut down his... his _station?_

 

Wait. Was this a...

 

No. Of course not. Out here? In _space?_ It couldn’t be. That was silly.

 

And yet...

 

Adam took another look at the alien. They were dressed in cleanish but ratty clothes--pants that looked like faded ripped blue jeans that had been doodled on with markers, shirt that looked like a three-sleeved T-shirt decorated with another logo Adam had seen on one of the stickers on the shuttle, shiny metal rings and barbells in both of their ears and all three of their nostrils, wildly-colored hair with visible dark roots, colorful tattoo sleeves covering all three forearms.

 

Then he looked around the room. The console the alien had been working at. The microphone on that console. The headphones. The shelves loaded with brightly colored, logo-bedecked storage drives. The banks of alien yet oddly _familiar_ equipment all around the room. The posters on the walls, some just logos, some with logos and artwork, some depicting groups of aliens standing around with what sure as hell looked like alien musical instruments...

 

“...I’ll be damned.” Adam put his bayard away and grinned. He’d found a pirate, all right--just not the kind he ever thought he’d run into in space. _“Atlas,_ this is Black-2...”

 

“Hey, Adam. What’s up?”

 

“Everything’s fine. I found the source of the signal. I’ll explain in debrief but long story short it is completely harmless and also fairly awesome and tell _the Captain_ I do not, repeat, _do not_ need any backup.”

 

“Roger that,” Curtis replied. “I’ll let him know all’s well. See you when you get back.”

 

The alien blinked up at him a few times. “So... yain’t cometa shut doon ma station then?”

 

“Listen, we got off to a bad start,” Adam said to the alien, offering them a hand up. “How would you feel about a little, uh... cultural exchange?”

 

* * *

 

Adam left the trash nebula with the frequency for a really good intergalactic underground radio station, a big stack of stickers bearing the station’s logo, and a storage drive full of alien indie music. And his very happy new alien DJ friend had a whole bunch of Earth music to add to the rotation.

 

Adam wasn’t sure if this ended up being the most fun he’d ever had on patrol, but it was definitely on the top ten list. But he needed to get out of here so he could finish that patrol up and call it a day. He steered Black-2 back onto their route and figured he’d better let the _Atlas_ know what his status was.

 

“Sorry, Adam,” Curtis sighed when he did that. “I tried to tell him.”

 

“You tried to ...oh no.” Even as that came out of Adam’s mouth, he checked Black-2’s sensors and... shit. Four friendlies, headed his way. “Oh, _come on!”_

 

“Commander Wolf?” Yeah, that sure was Griffin’s voice that came over the comm next. “Where do you need us?”

 

“Wh-where do I--I need you back on the _Atlas!_ ” Adam sputtered. “It’s fine! It’s a radio station, for crying out loud!”

 

“A... a comm station? Whose is it?”

 

“No, not a comm station, a _radio station!_ You know? You turn on the radio and music comes out of it? One of those! That is literally all it is, there is one friendly alien in there playing music and that’s it! There’s nothing hostile here!” Adam could feel a vein throbbing in his forehead, and Black-2 sent him a little nudge of concern over whether it was supposed to do that. “There’s nothing here we need to do anything about! Turn around! We’re going home!”

 

“But sir,” Griffin started, “shouldn’t we at least--”

 

“MFE pilots who argue with their superior officers don’t get stickers, Lieutenant Griffin! Do you want your sticker or should I give it to someone else instead?”

 

There was a long, long silence. And then, in a voice that had somehow managed to shed ten years:

 

“...you got us _stickers!?”_

 

Despite his annoyance at being sent unnecessary backup yet again, Adam couldn’t help but smile a little. At the end of the day he was still a teacher, they were still his students, and even the most stubborn students would do anything if there was a sticker on the line.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, gather ‘round. No pushing, no yelling, one per customer. Here you go, here you go, here you--Pidge, you already got yours, nice try--here you go, Princess, I saved the pink glitter one for you--”

 

“Ooh.” Allura graciously accepted her sticker and tilted it this way and that to watch it sparkle.

 

“Nice.” Rizavi grabbed her sticker. “Can I put it on my fighter?”

 

“Don’t even think about it. Here you go, here you go, yes, Lieutenant Griffin, here’s yours--”

 

_“Yesss.”_

 

“Hey.” Takashi nudged his way into the circle of MFE pilots and Paladins eagerly awaiting their promised stickers. “Got one for me?”

 

Adam eyed him coolly for a moment, sorely tempted to inform him that overprotective ship captains-slash-husbands who sent the whole damn MFE squadron out to “rescue” him from a _radio station_ didn’t get stickers either.

 

...no, no. He couldn’t do that.

 

“I’ll give you yours in your office,” he said instead, and Keith made a weird choking snorting noise as he took his sticker.

 

* * *

 

“It was a _what!?”_

 

“One, I gave a full report in debrief, feel free to read it. Two, _did I stutter?_ And three--” Adam took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. _Too close to bedtime. Do not yell. Do not escalate this. Do not go to bed angry. Do not break the fucking rule._ “Did Curtis tell you I specifically said to _not_ send anyone in after me, or no?”

 

“Yes,” Takashi sighed. “He did, but you missed a check-in.”

 

 _“What!?_ No.” He didn’t. He knew he didn’t. He pulled up his wrist display and checked his outgoing comm log. “No I didn’t. See, look--” He showed it to Takashi. “Right here. Here’s the last check-in before I landed, and then--”

 

“And then you didn’t call in on the next hour. Adam, I asked you to--”

 

“I didn’t call in on the hour because _I had just fucking called in fifteen minutes before--”_ Adam shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I’m trying really hard to keep my cool here but look, right here, I called in early with the all-clear and asked Curtis to tell you again that I did not need backup out there--”

 

Takashi kept looking at the log, tracing his finger down the outgoing comms until he reached the one in question. _“Oh._ Shit. Right, I remember that.” He sighed again. “I guess I’m so used to you checking in on the hour that when you didn’t, I just got worried.”

 

“Okay.” Adam nodded. “Then next time I’ll remember to check in on the hour whether I just called in or not. If that’s what it takes to convince you to stop doing this--”

 

“It’s not just you, okay?” Takashi snapped. He opened his mouth to say something else, then shut it and shook his head. “Sorry. That didn’t come out the way I meant it to.” He took a deep breath. “But if you think I’m singling you out with this, I’m not. I do it to everyone.”

 

 _No you don’t,_ Adam wanted to say but didn’t. _Not the way you do it with me._

 

But instead he just wrapped his arms around Takashi’s waist and flopped onto his shoulder for that post-mission hug. He was too tired and it was too late and they were just going to have to do this some other time.

 

“Do I still get a sticker?” Takashi whispered into the side of Adam’s head.

 

Adam took a sticker out of his belt pouch, peeled the backing off it, and with a wicked little grin, he slapped it right onto Takashi’s ass.

 

* * *

 

Those leads Takashi mentioned the other day finally turned up some juicy information, juicy enough to need followed up on in a hurry. Which was why Adam and the bridge crew and the MFE pilots and the Paladins and Takashi were all sitting in the situation room hashing out mission details with Kolivan via the comm screen.

 

A Fire of Purification base in this very sector. A big one. Possibly a weapons manufacturing facility. Because so far, that was what Sendak’s posthumous fan club did. Build big weapons, terrorize the universe with them, turn them on themselves and whoever happened to be on their turf if the fight wasn’t going the way they planned. Victory or death, and all that.

 

But the last thing the Coalition wanted right now was for them to turn their weapons on themselves. They needed intel first. Such as: with Sendak his own self down for a dirt nap, hopefully a permanent one this time, who was leading a bunch of pissed-off Galra on a rampage in his name?

 

The base commander was one of Sendak’s old buddies, but the name didn’t ring any particularly loud or unpleasant bells with Adam. Nor with anyone else, it looked like.

 

It looked like a simple enough mission, on paper: send a small team of Blades in, wait a couple of vargas for them to make contact with their person on the inside and get the information they needed to get, meet them at the extraction point, and get the hell out. The problem was that someone needed to get the Blades there and back, and the pool of viable candidates for this was pretty damned shallow.

 

The MFE fighters had exactly one back seat apiece, and sending the whole squadron into enemy territory wasn’t going to work. So... it was going to have to be a Lion.

 

Even worse: this was a stealth mission. That meant radio silence. That meant zero communication with the _Atlas_ until everyone was back in safe territory or unless, God forbid, the whole thing went to shit.

 

Adam did the math. It was kind of a no-brainer that if this was a weapons manufacturing facility, it would have a lot of weapons around, possibly including some scary new crap they hadn’t seen yet. If the mission _did_ go to hell, they were going to need all the firepower they could get, and... _ugh._

 

“I’ll do it,” Adam sighed. Sighed, because he had a bad feeling that his talk with Takashi the other day hadn’t quite sunk in. Keith must have picked up on that too, because he shook his head.

 

“Maybe you should let me get this one,” he said. “It’s a Blade mission, I can handle it.”

 

Takashi seemed pretty okay with that idea, and oh, Adam was so tempted to go along with it because he knew what was going to happen if Takashi even _thought_ he was in trouble, but... “The thing is... if this goes pear-shaped, we’re probably going to need Voltron right away. If you’re pinned down over there, that could be a problem.”

 

Keith let out a deep sigh through his teeth, one that said _you’re right but I wish you weren’t._

 

Theoretically, there wasn’t any reason why they wouldn’t be able to form Voltron with Black-2. Adam had brought up the idea with the rest of the Paladins, and everyone involved seemed to think it should work. Allura thought it should work. Black-2 itself thought it should work. They’d even tried to do it a few times on training flights. But so far, they hadn’t managed to actually make it happen.

 

The problem, they thought, was that Adam and Black-2’s connection with the rest of the team wasn’t quite there. It was there with Lance and Red, and almost there with Hunk and Allura and their Lions. But Pidge was a whole new variable in this equation. She was similar to Matt, but she was her own person with her own Quintessence and a different bayard and a Green Lion that had followed a very different evolutionary path, and neither Adam nor Black-2 was quite sure how to work with any of that yet. On a more mundane level, Adam just hadn’t had a lot of time to get to know her the way he knew the rest of the Paladins.

 

It was something they all knew they needed to work on both in and out of their Lions, but they just hadn’t had the time yet. And there was too much on the line with this mission to count on a quantity as unknown as their ability to form Voltron with a whole different Black Lion and Paladin as the head.

 

And oh, Takashi did _not_ like this. He didn’t say as much, but Adam could see it on his face. He really didn’t like this. At all. But what the hell else could they do? Ask Kolivan to hotwire a Galra shuttle to do this, and wait however long it’d take him to get free to do it? Sit there twiddling their thumbs while that base was building whatever the hell it might be building, up to and including an actual whole-ass Zaiforge cannon?

 

But Adam knew Takashi was a brilliant strategist, and he knew Takashi would be crunching the numbers in his head, and he knew Takashi would come up with the same answer. It had to be Black-2. He wouldn’t like it. But he didn’t have much of a choice.

 

Adam meant to sit Takashi down for a nice calm talk about the mission as soon as that briefing wrapped up. But before he could make his way across the situation room to corner his increasingly overprotective superior officer-slash-husband, he saw Keith coming at him from one side and Curtis and Veronica coming from the other.

 

Uh oh. They were either coming to commiserate with him or lecture him.

 

“Okay,” Keith said once he was sure Takashi was out of earshot. “You know why I volunteered for this, right?”

 

“I know _exactly_ why you volunteered for this, and thanks for trying.” Adam looked up at Curtis and Veronica. “I’m guessing you two have the same concern?”

 

“Big time,” Veronica said.

 

“So we’re all on the same page, then.” Adam took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “I think he’d be a lot more okay with it if not for the radio silence part of it. Curtis, would the private channel be safe, or no?”

 

Curtis shook his head. “It’s secure, but if they’re paying any attention at all they’re going to see you transmitting so even if they can’t actually hear what you’re saying you’re going to give your position away.”

 

“Shit. Hey, remember that thing the radio station was doing with the relays? if there’s any way you could set something up to--”

 

“Eeh.” Curtis cringed a little and shook his head again. “It didn’t take me long to trace that back to its source and--” He looked over Adam’s shoulder and sighed. “His ears must be burning. ‘Scuse me.”

 

Adam turned as casually as he could to watch Curtis cross the room so Takashi could talk to him. He watched the conversation out of the corner of his eye for a while, saw Curtis do that cringe-and-headshake thing again, and knew Takashi was asking him the same damn thing.

 

“Okay,” he sighed. “While Curtis is over there getting the third degree... Veronica, even if we can’t talk to each other you can still track my location. We know what the mission plan is, if I go somewhere I shouldn’t or move when I shouldn’t or don’t move when I should, you’ll know something’s up, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Veronica replied, “but if he starts getting ants in his pants, I can tell him you’re on schedule until I’m blue in the face and he won’t listen.”

 

“Hey,” Keith said. “He’s got a connection with your Lion too, doesn’t he? He can hear it, right?”

 

Huh.

 

Adam looked up at Keith. “Yeah. He can. And so can you, right?”

 

“Well... it let me in when you showed up here,  but that was kind of an emergency. I don’t know if it--”

 

Adam shut his eyes. It had let Keith fly it once--the other Keith, in his reality. That had been kind of an emergency too, the kind of emergency that fell into one of those holes in his memory but... no, not now. _Say hi to Keith,_ he thought.

 

Black-2 did.

 

“Whoa. Okay. Yeah.” Keith nodded. “I felt that.”

 

Adam glanced over his shoulder again, saw what could only be Curtis very patiently explaining something for at least the third time, and nodded again. “Both of you, walk with me. Keith, I have an idea and I’ll need your help. Veronica, rescue Curtis.”

 

“Aye aye.” Veronica didn’t even try to be subtle about it, she just scooted over, took Curtis by the back of the belt, and gently dragged him away while making some vague noises about calibration and equipment checks and such.

 

Before Takashi could ask what the hell that was about, Adam and Keith cornered him.

 

“I have a bad feeling about this mission,” Adam told him point-blank, “and I think you know why. Or do you think I didn’t see you grilling my poor friend about the ‘radio silence’ thing?”

 

Takashi opened his mouth like he was going to try and deny that, but with both Adam and Keith staring him down, that apparently proved impossible. “I don’t like this,” he sighed instead, and Adam nodded and patted his shoulder.

 

“I know. I’m not crazy about it either. But, two things. One, Veronica can track my location. She’ll know if I’m not following the plan and if I’m not, you’ll know something’s come up. And two... Black-2 trusts both of you enough to tell you if I’m really in trouble.”

 

“Huh.” Takashi raised an eyebrow and thought that over. “Okay, yeah, that’ll help--”

 

“My concern,” Adam went on, “is that you won’t be able to tell the difference between Black-2 telling you I’m in trouble when I am and your own anxiety telling you I’m in trouble when I’m not.”

 

“Which is why he’s going to have Black-2 tell _me_ if there’s a problem,” Keith chimed in. “And then--”

 

“Yeah, no, that’s not gonna fly,” Takashi said. “I need to be in on this.”

 

“--and then I’ll tell _you._ Shiro, listen.” Keith patted Takashi’s other shoulder. “I’d take this mission but he’s right. If it goes bad, we’ll need Voltron, which means I have to be here with the rest of the Lions. The MFE fighters can’t do it. Do you really want to try and sneak the whole _Atlas_ into enemy territory? Because that’s the only other option. We get you being nervous about this, okay? I’m nervous about it too, but you’ve got to let Adam do his job.”

 

_Attaboy._

 

“All right,” Takashi finally sighed. “I don’t like it, but... you’re right, we don’t have much of a choice here.”

 

“Okay.” Adam nodded. “That’s settled. It’s going to be fine. Now... out of the way, kiddo.”

 

Keith took a big step back and made a big show out of looking scandalized as Adam grabbed Takashi by the back of the head and pulled him in for a kiss. He managed to keep looking scandalized for all of five seconds before he busted out laughing.

 

* * *

 

Okay. that was handled. They had a plan. Veronica’s tracking, and Black-2’s connection with Keith and Takashi. Between the two of those, Takashi would know if Adam really needed help out there and, more importantly, if he didn’t.

 

So why oh _why_ did Adam still have the feeling gnawing at his guts that this was going to turn into a three-ring shitshow?

 

* * *

 

So far, everything was going exactly as planned.

 

The Blades didn’t say much on the way to the insertion point and that was fine, Adam didn’t care much for pointless small talk anyway. But they did explain the system they’d be able to use to give him an idea of how things were going inside without breaking radio silence, various signal codes in their suits that Adam would be able to monitor in much the same way Veronica could keep track of his Lion. The only ones Adam needed to worry about were the one that meant _on schedule, meet at extraction point as planned,_ the one that meant _behind schedule, give us another [x] varga(s) then meet at extraction point,_ and of course the one that meant _everything has gone utterly to shit, leave without us right now._

 

Easy.

 

There was a regular, predictable burst of solar weirdness that would interfere with the base’s scanners, and Adam took advantage of it to sneak in. He dropped the Blades at the insertion point without incident and retreated to his hidey-hole on the dark side of a rocky little moon to wait for them to do what they needed to do.

 

Black-2 didn’t have a cloaking device as such but it had learned to adapt its particle barrier into a sort of camouflage, letting it blend in with its surroundings. If it moved too quickly or anyone looked right at it, they’d definitely see something amiss. But if it was sitting perfectly still somewhere like, say, the dark side of a shitty little moon nobody really seemed to care about, it could go unnoticed.

 

Adam didn’t think playing his music would be a good idea even if the patrols and comm techs wouldn’t be able to hear it; he’d brought a good old fashioned paper-and-pen crossword puzzle to keep himself alert while he waited the three vargas for the Blades to do what they needed to do. Every so often, he asked Black-2 to let Keith and Takashi know all was well, and Black-2 relayed the acknowledgement of that from both of them. The Lions didn’t communicate with their Paladins in words, and the acknowledgement Adam got from Keith and Takashi was likewise mostly nonverbal. He guessed the same was true on their end, the words he thought probably weren’t getting through but the meaning behind them went across fine. So that was working pretty well.

 

But two and a half vargas in, the Blades’ status code changed from _on schedule_ to _behind schedule_ with the modifier that meant _+1 varga._

 

 _Running behind,_ Adam thought to Black-2. _It’ll be one more varga._

 

Calm acknowledgement from Keith. Slightly less calm acknowledgement from Takashi.

 

 _It’s fine,_ Adam thought. _Shit happens. It’s one more varga. Not the heat death of the universe._

 

Keith agreed. Takashi was getting nervous, but Keith was talking to him, and apparently Veronica was keeping him updated too, so at least there was that.

 

The status code changed to _on schedule_ again. That would be the new schedule, but still. Whatever was happening in there, the Blades had it under control, and Adam let Keith and Takashi know.

 

And then just as Adam was about to put his crossword puzzle away and head for the extraction point: _behind schedule. +1 varga._

 

“Oh, come on,” Adam sighed. _Behind again,_ he thought. _They need another varga._

 

Calm acknowledgement from Keith.

 

_Takashi?_

 

Takashi’s acknowledgement felt like a strangely familiar low buzz of static.

 

_Okay._

 

Adam picked up his crossword puzzle again. He looked over some of the clues and decided maybe he’d better not right now, some of those looked awfully loaded. Best to not think about them too hard, and he made a mental note to maybe bring a puzzle book that didn’t involve words if he ever had to do this again.

 

Twenty doboshes to extraction. They were fine. There had clearly been some delays but they were--

 

_Behind schedule. +1 varga._

 

No, that definitely wasn’t the _leave without us_ code, but... “For fuck’s sake...” _Okay, one more varga. They seem OK, just... getting slowed down a lot._

 

Calm acknowledgement from Keith.

 

Then... annoyance from Keith. Loud static from Takashi. More loud static from Keith. Back and forth and--

 

They were arguing. Oh no. Oh _shit._

 

 _Don’t do it, Takashi,_ Adam thought as hard as he could. _We’re fine. Everything is fine. Don’t do it. Do NOT._

 

Silence. Pointed but calm thoughts from Keith to Takashi. Begrudging acknowledgement in reply. That same familiar low static buzz.

 

The Blades’ status code changed back to _on schedule._

 

Okay. Crisis averted for now but god _damn,_ whatever the Blades were doing in there, they needed to wrap that shit up before--

 

More heated back-and-forth between Keith and Takashi. Being relayed through Black-2 as their communication was, a lot of the actual words got lost in translation but Adam did not like _any_ of what he was picking up from them.

 

Relative calm again, but with that low static hum in the background.

 

The status code changed again. _Behind schedule, +15 doboshes_

 

Okay. Sub-optimal, but fine. If they were only looking at a 15-dobosh delay, they couldn’t have run into anything too hairy, right? Right. Adam passed the message on to Black-2, and Black-2 passed it on to Keith and Takashi, and--

 

More back-and-forth between Keith and Takashi, more heated than ever, and that low static hum in the background was building like the sound of a hive full of angry bees--no, not angry, afraid. Terrified. And that rising buzzing noise was threatening to drown out Keith’s voice of reason, threatening even to drown out Black-2 itself.

 

 _Don’t do it._ Adam thought again, as hard as he could. _Takashi, please don’t do it--Black, tell him we’re still okay, scream it at him as loud as you can, tell him we’re fine!_

 

Black-2 did.

 

There was a sensation like a door slamming. Adam couldn’t feel Black-2’s connection with Takashi anymore. He could feel Keith’s, though, and while most of the words that passed between Takashi and Keith didn’t come through, a few of them came over loud and clear, _no_ and _oh dammit Shiro_ and _disregard that order, Lieutenant Griffin--_

 

Oh no. No no no no _no._ Goddammit, they were so close to pulling this off and Takashi had to do this _now!?_

 

Adam did the math: they were now twenty-two doboshes to extraction, according to the latest update. It would take Adam less than five to get from his hidey-hole to the extraction point and even if he ditched the moon at the last possible second, stopped at the extraction point just long enough for the Blades to board, and bailed, that would still leave him out in the open longer than he was comfortable with. If the MFE fighters took off now, they’d be in range of the base’s scanners in ten unless Takashi told them to hang back and wait to see if their help was really needed, or at least told them to wait for the little solar anomaly that let Black-2 slide in undetected. Adam sincerely doubted he intended to do either.

 

And Adam had no way to communicate _any_ of this to the Blades. No way to call the MFEs off. Not without breaking radio silence. Not without giving away his position and possibly the Blades’. Not without blowing the whole damned operation.

 

 _Keith, if Takashi’s not listening anymore then for God’s sake buy me some time,_ Adam pleaded silently. _Do whatever you have to do to keep the MFEs from taking off, remind Griffin that_ I’m _his immediate supervisor, not Takashi, and I said stay put, shit, punch him again if you have to and I’ll take the blame for it later! Please, I just need a few minutes, PLEASE!_

 

He got something back from Keith that felt like a tumbleweed spinning around in a circle. He was being pulled three directions at once--trying to talk Takashi down from risking the whole operation, trying to remind Griffin how the chain of command worked, trying to keep Adam apprised of all of this. Under all of that, the spooked bee swarm buzz of Takashi’s rising panic.

 

Eighteen doboshes until extraction. _Keep stalling them, Keith,_ Adam pleaded. _As long as you can._

 

The sound of Takashi’s panic died down some. That door he’d slammed opened, just a crack. Okay. That was something.

 

Sixteen doboshes until extraction.

 

 _Tell him,_ Adam begged Black-2. _Tell him we just need a few fucking minutes and we’re done and everyone will be okay but the only way that’s going to happen is if he calms down._

 

Silence for a while. Fourteen doboshes until extraction.

 

Back and forth again, a rubber band pulled three ways and stretched not quite to breaking on Keith’s side, buzzing on Takashi’s side.

 

Thirteen.

 

More arguing, faster, heated. Then both of them arguing with someone Black-2 didn’t speak to--fuck, they were both yelling at Griffin now, weren’t they?

 

Twelve.

 

Adam knew Griffin well enough to know what was probably going on in the kid’s head. He would be torn between sticking to the chain of command like he knew he was supposed to and listening to his immediate supervisor even with Keith as his proxy... and doing what Takashi told him to just as a “fuck you” to Keith.

 

Eleven.

 

Okay. One more dobosh and they were maybe out of the woods, maybe Adam could get to the extraction point a little early, maybe the Blades could haul ass and get on board and they could all get the hell out of here and everything would be fine, if Keith could just keep Takashi talking and not doing anything rash for just one fucking dobosh--

 

And then everything went to hell.

 

Keith and Takashi blew up at each other and, presumably, at Griffin. That door slammed shut again, and Keith sent something that felt like the most helpless possible throwing up of hands. Adam didn’t need to catch a single word to know what just happened.

 

The MFE fighters were on the way.

 

Heading for the extraction point ahead of schedule was was risky, but if Adam sat very still with Black-2’s camo shield up until he saw a sign of the Blades, he might be able to get _them_ out before everything went to shit...

 

He relayed that plan to Keith, and added a suggestion that he get the Paladins ready to scramble the damn Lions. He got the impression Keith tried to tell Takashi what they were going to have to do now, that Adam was actually now being forced to take a much larger risk to avoid casualties--never mind botching the mission, that was now all but guaranteed.

 

Again, the helpless throwing up of hands. Nine doboshes until extraction... and eight before the MFEs would be in scanner range.

 

_Fuck._

 

He didn’t have a choice, did he?

 

Adam kept Black-2’s camo shield up--it was only slightly better than trying to sneak to the extraction point while covering his eyes and chanting _you can’t see me, I’m invisible_ but it was the only cover he had for much of the route.

 

He could see the extraction point ahead. But he had to wait for a small formation of drone fighters on patrol to clear the area before he could proceed.

 

Six doboshes until extraction, five until the base would spot the MFEs.

 

 _Go on,_ Adam thought at the patrolling drones, knowing perfectly well they couldn’t hear him and even if they could it’d just make the situation worse, _go on, get out of here..._

 

The drones cleared out. Three doboshes until extraction. He was uncomfortably early.

 

He hit the extraction point and froze. Camouflage or no, he felt exposed out here. Naked. Just waiting to be spotted.

 

One of the Blades stuck their head out. If Adam hadn’t been watching for a sign, he never would have seen it. But at least one of them had made the extraction point early enough.

 

One minute early for extraction, and any second the MFE fighters were going to blow their cover.

 

Fuck it.

 

Adam dropped the shield. The Blade watching through the hatch dropped his mask and Adam could lip-read _what the quiznak are you doing, you’re too early!_ as the three of them scrambled up and out, bringing a _fourth_ Galra with them. Adam opened up Black-2’s mouth and sprinted down to wave them in.

 

“I’m sorry. I’ll explain on the way back,” he called as the bewildered Blades and their friend piled in. “We need to get the hell out of here _right now.”_

 

Adam got the Blades situated and sprinted back up to the cockpit just in time to see four friendlies show up on his radar and hear the base alarms start screaming. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about either of them.

 

 _Punch it,_ he thought, gritting his teeth and urging Black-2 spaceward, But he wasn’t quick enough--now fighters, both drones and manned, were pouring out of the base and the domed roof of one of the buildings in the center of the base was blooming open in a way that made Adam think about those giant flowers that smelled like dead bodies. Then he cursed himself for thinking about anything even tangentially related to dead bodies.

 

Yeah. They knew he was there, they knew the MFE fighters were there, and all of this, this whole mission, this whole day, was going directly to shit.

 

Well... no point in maintaining radio silence now, was there? _“Atlas,_ this is Black-2 and oh _man_ we are going to have some words later but right now we’re looking at the worst-case scenario and I need some help out here!”

 

“The MFE fighters are already en route,” Takashi replied, and Adam cursed himself a little more over the tremor in his voice. “They should be coming in right about now--”

 

“Yeah, they’re here, they’ve been spotted, _that’s why we’re looking at the worst case scenario!_ I need you and Voltron here yesterday!  _Griffin!”_

 

“Sir?”

 

Adam winced a little at his own tone and the sheepishness in Griffin’s. “You’re not in trouble, okay, you just did what the Captain told you, nobody can blame you for that but now do you see--” Adam plugged in his bayard, pulled a hard right with a barrel roll, and shredded a formation of fighters trying to close in on him with Black-2’s wing blades. “--why we have--” He banked left, sliced through a conga line of fighters with Black-2’s mouth and tail cannons. “--the damn _chain of command?”_

 

A loud swallow. “Yes, sir.”

 

“Good. We’ll talk later but--” No, he really didn’t like the look of that roof opening up like that. It didn’t look big enough to house a Zaiforge cannon, but it sure didn’t look like anything fun. “Concentrate on the fighters until the _Atlas_ and Voltron get here, I’ve got a really bad feeling about that building over there--”

 

“That’s the weapon they were building,” came an exasperated-sounding female voice from behind him. Adam glanced over his shoulder and found the Galra woman the Blades had picked up standing behind the pilot seat. “All the details were in the files your team came to collect from me. Wasn’t counting on having to coach you through dealing with it in real time, but... here we are. Name’s Uzonna. Wish I could say it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

Adam snorted. “Understandable. I’m not real pleased with my higher-ups right now myself, for what it’s worth. ‘Scuse me, I need to deal with this bunch on my ass, hold on to something--”

 

Uzonna held on while Adam looped back behind his tailgaters and took them out with Black-2’s jaw blades. “Nice. So, the good news,” Uzonna went on, as casually as if she was telling Adam about a particularly interesting sporting event or something, “is that it’s never been fired. Even test fired. It’s that new. The better news is, it has a couple of serious design flaws and it’s likely it won’t fire at all. You’re welcome.”

 

Adam couldn’t help but laugh. “You actually engineered flaws into it?”

 

“Oh please.” She sounded mildly offended. “I’m quality assurance. The engineer is a pompous hack and I just _forgot--”_ Adam glanced at her over his shoulder, and she made a gesture that he guessed was the Galra equivalent of air quotes-- “to point out the problems with his design. Which brings me to the bad news.”

 

“Of course it does.” Adam sighed. Later, he would find himself lying awake in bed at some ridiculous hour contemplating the fact that the Fire of Purification actually had a quality assurance division, but for now he had more important things to worry about. “How bad are we talking, with a weapon that might not even fire?”

 

“You’ll have to bait it into trying to take a shot. Do you have something small enough to maneuver but big enough to make a tempting target, with a nice strong shield on the off chance it actually does fire? A particle barrier, preferably?”

 

Adam ground his teeth. She’d just pretty much exactly described Black-2. “Great. _Atlas!”_

 

“What’s going on?” Oh good, it was Curtis this time.

 

“What’s your ETA?”

 

“Ah--we’re here, actually.” A whole mess of fighters exploded like fireworks in the sky and behind them, yes, there was the orange glow of the _Atlas’_ particle barrier. “How are you holding up?”

 

“Been worse. Hey, I need you and Voltron and the MFEs to keep the fighters busy and take out the ground-to-air crap if you run into any. See that big building with the domed roof opening up there?

 

“Got it.”

 

“‘Kay. Apparently I have to try and bait whatever’s in it into firing so we can exploit some pompous hack’s glaring design flaw.”

 

“Uh... okay then. Keep us posted.”

 

“Will do.”

 

Something started rising out of the open roof of the building. No, it wasn’t a Zaiforge cannon. Too small. But it looked enough like one that Adam hissed in a breath through his teeth. “Nope. Don’t like that. Not one bit. So what’s supposed to happen when it tries to shoot me down?”

 

“The cooling system will fail, the cannon will overheat, and that will cause all kinds of lovely cascading failures that will take forever to repair, so--oh. Hmm. That’s not right.”

 

Adam did not like the sound of that. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Uzonna poking on a handheld device, something like a phone, and scowling.

 

“How is it already fully charged? It should have taken quite a bit longer than this... oh. No, that’s definitely not supposed to happen, is that idiot _trying_ to overload... _”_ Uzonna sighed and put her phone-thing away. “Well. Looks like they’re exploiting the _other_ glaring design flaw themselves, though I can’t say for sure whether they’re trying to get it ready to shoot you faster and harder, or just blow it and this whole base up. I’d suggest you and your people get as far away from here as you can, as fast as you can. By my best guess, you’ve got about... twenty ticks.”

 

 _“You have got to be fucking kidding me!”_ Yeah. They had the _Atlas,_ plus Voltron, plus the MFE squadron, plus an extra Black Lion with a bunch of Blades on board all in the area, of course they figured their best bet would be to blow the whole place sky high and see how much of that opposition they could take with them. Victory or death? Hey, why not both? “ _Atlas_ , they’re about to self-destruct, we need to clear out of here _now!”_

 

“We can get a wormhole in about thirty ticks,” Takashi said.

 

“Not good enough! Everyone, just floor it in the general direction of _away from this base,_ we’ll meet back up when it’s clear!”

 

Nobody had to be told twice. Voltron, the MFE fighters, the _Atlas,_ and Black-2 all streaked off as fast as they could, as far away from the base as they could, and it almost wasn’t enough for some of them. Voltron and the MFE fighters were quick enough to avoid the worst of the blast. Black-2 and the _Atlas_ weren’t quite that fast and if not for their particle barriers, they would have been flattened like soda cans by the shockwave.

 

When the blast wave finally died out and the proverbial waters had calmed down, Adam looked out over the gently expanding cloud of dust and debris that had been the Fire’s base and ground his teeth and tried like hell to ignore the vein throbbing in his forehead.

 

“Is everyone okay? Sound off,” Takashi called _,_ and Adam bit his tongue. Oh, he _would_ sound off. At great length, and in very fine detail, and possibly at a very high decibel level. But not now. Absolutely none of what he really wanted to say would have been helpful at that particular moment. Instead he listened as one by one, the MFE pilots checked in, then the Paladins.

 

“Adam?”

 

“Fine,” he spat.

 

He was not fine. Not at all.

 

* * *

 

At least they hadn’t blown Uzonna’s cover. As it turned out, she’d been keeping an eye on the proverbial weather and not much liking the way it was going, and she figured since a few Blades were coming to call, she might as well disappear with them. Which, as it also turned out, had been the reason for all the delays--she had to get out without drawing any undue attention or suspicion.

 

So there was that. This wasn’t a complete disaster. Mostly a disaster, but not completely.

 

Adam went in to give his debrief report and passed Keith coming out from giving his, and he caught Keith by the shoulder. “Did you say anything about us and Black-2 or...”

 

“Nope. Are you gonna?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“‘Kay.” Keith had a look on his face Adam wasn’t sure how exactly to read. “You want to yell at him first, or should I?”

 

“I am not going to yell at him,” Adam said firmly. If he said it firmly enough, he might even start believing it. “And neither are you.”

 

Keith clapped him on the shoulder and went on his way, and Adam went in to give his report.

 

He left out the part where he’d been in communication with Takashi and Keith via Black-2’s psychic connection to them, just as Keith had. If it got out that Takashi sent the MFE fighters in guns blazing on a stealth mission despite being told in no uncertain terms by the man on the ground that it wasn’t necessary... even as pissed as Adam was right now, he didn’t want to think about what kind of hell Takashi would catch from Iverson for that.

 

When he came out, Takashi was standing there waiting.

 

“You okay?” he asked, like he always did. He knew he’d fucked up. Adam could see it in his face. It didn’t help.

 

“No,” Adam said. “No, I’m not okay, I just had a very important mission go entirely to shit and _I am not okay._ Everything was fine, Takashi.” He tried to keep his voice low but it took every ounce of self-control he had and between the exhaustion and the anger, it was wearing thin. “Everything was fine until the fucking MFEs showed up. Did you even tell them about the solar thing or no?”

 

“The Blades kept getting held up,” Takashi protested. “Something was wrong in there, waiting for the anomaly would have cost too much time--.”

 

“Nothing was so wrong in there that you needed to send four fighters charging in through the front door!” Adam snapped. “The Blades were _handling it!_ They would have gotten Uzonna and the intel and gotten out and nobody would have been the wiser if you hadn’t--”

 

“You could have been in trouble!” Takashi snapped back. “What was I supposed to do?”

 

“You were supposed to _listen to us!_ I was fine, and I fucking told you that! Keith told you! My goddamn _Lion_ told you, and you didn’t listen!” Adam snatched his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What’s it going to take? Someone getting hurt out there because you sent in the cavalry when you shouldn’t have? Someone getting _killed?_ ”

 

“Adam--” Takashi started, but Keith came up from behind him and took him by the arm.

 

“I got this, Adam. Shiro, we need to talk. Now.”

 

“Just a minute, Keith. I’m--”

 

_“Now.”_

 

Adam stood there and watched Keith lead Takashi away, and behind them he saw Griffin coming down the corridor to debrief. Griffin caught Adam’s eye, looked at Keith steering Takashi away, looked back at Adam, and nodded.

 

Adam wasn’t sure what to make of that, and right now he couldn’t spare the mental CPU cycles to do the math. So he just turned around and stalked off towards the lift. Training deck. Good old physical exertion. That was what he needed. Actually, no, what he _really_ needed right now was...

 

...shit.

 

He didn’t give Takashi his hug.

 

* * *

 

Too mad even for the training deck. Well. That was a new one.

 

But even as pissed off as Adam was, he still found a little bit of wry amusement in the discovery of yet another off-label use for his robot hand as he sat on the floor of his cabin with a single gently smoldering leaf of sage cupped in it. He didn’t even need a match to light it, he just touched it with the tip of one white-hot finger.

 

He still wasn’t sure he bought into the spiritual part of it, but the scent helped settle his nerves and calm his mind. It was the best he could do out here. His grandparents had taught him a prayer to the four directions and it sometimes helped when his mind was running away from him like this, but it wouldn’t now. Not on the _Atlas._ Not out in deep space.

 

Adam wasn’t sure he bought into the spiritual part of that prayer either--for him, it was a comforting bit of ritual and something to focus on other than whatever was chewing on his brain at the moment, and not much else. But out here in space where there was no Earth below him and the only four fixed directions he knew were fore and aft, starboard and port, it didn’t feel right. He’d tried it before--once on that Galra prison ship, once on the Castle, and both times it had left him feeling worse than before he started.

 

_Don’t go to bed mad at him._

 

Easier said than done.

 

Sure, in the end it worked out to a net positive. They still got their intel, and now this sector had one less Fire of Purification base to worry about. But by now the rest of Sendak’s fan club had to know this base had had a Blade embedded in it, and now every other base commander was going to be on the lookout for any sign of infiltration.

 

And it could have gone even worse.

 

God, it could have gone so much worse. It didn’t. Everyone came home safe. This branch of Sendak’s fan club didn’t take any innocent planets with it when it self-destructed. But it could have gone _so_ much worse. And Adam’s brain would not stop feeding him all the alternate scenarios that could have played out. There were a lot of those alternate scenarios, and they were all horrible, and every single one of them could have happened if not for the skill and quick thinking and just plain guts of a whole lot of people.

 

Takashi knew that. Didn’t he? He had to know that. He had to know how much worse this could have been. Maybe that was why Keith dragged him off like that, to hammer the reality of it into his head because he sure as hell wasn’t listening to Adam.

 

_Don’t go to bed mad at him._

 

This wasn’t helping. Maybe he did need to get off his ass and hit the training deck after all. _Can’t go to bed mad if you’re too tired to remember your own name,_ he thought, _much less why you’re pissed off at your husband, right?_

 

Someone knocked on his door. Not the bathroom door, the actual door to his cabin. Adam almost ignored it. If it was official business, there were other ways to get hold of him.

 

“Adam? You in there?”

 

Shit. If it had been literally any other voice, he could have ignored it, but not this one. Not the last friendly voice he heard on Kerberos. Not the last voice he heard from Earth before Lotor destroyed it. Not his best friend.

 

“Yeah, hang on,” Adam sighed. He gently put out his sage, brushed the ash off his palm, and opened the door.

 

“Hey. I just wanted to check on you, are you--” Curtis stopped and wrinkled his nose up. “Eww. Smells like a brush fire in here--oh wait, that’s sage. Sorry, that was rude.”

 

“Nah, it’s okay. I’d open a window, but...” Adam gestured around his cabin and shrugged, and Curtis laughed. “C’mon in.”

 

Curtis stepped into Adam’s cabin and looked around like he wasn’t sure he was in the right place. “Separate rooms, huh?”

 

“For now.” Adam shrugged and sat down on the bed and pulled his feet up. “We were married on my side but not here, and I guess we’ve still got some stuff to work on before we fix that so yeah. I mean... we’re sharing the bathroom and we leave the doors unlocked, and we’re across the hall from each other in the dorm, and we sleep over a lot... but we’re kind of holding off on the physical stuff. And sometimes we just need our space. Like right now.” He shook his head. “Have you talked to him, or...”

 

Curtis gave him a little grimace. “Just to tell him Iverson was on the comm for him. Private line. Probably for the best, looked like that Galra lady you brought back was waiting her turn to wear him out too.”

 

“Iverson? Oh no.” Adam wrapped his arms around his knees. “Did he sound mad?”

 

“He always sounds mad.” Curtis shrugged. “Hard to say if he really was or not. He would have had time to see the debrief logs and stuff, though. He knows what happened out there.”

 

“Dammit.” Adam plopped his head onto his knees and huffed out a breath. “The last thing I want is for him to get in trouble with Iverson but... this sucks, Curtis. All of this. Everything about this just _sucks._ ”

 

“It’s going to be okay.” When it came out of Curtis’ mouth Adam could almost believe it, but... ugh. “Besides. Not everything about it sucks. Everyone came back safe.”

 

“True. I’m just glad nobody got killed out there. God. It could have gone so much worse.”

 

“I know. And he knows that too. He’s heard it from... well, he’s heard it from a few people.”

 

They were quiet for a while, Adam on his end of the bed and Curtis on his end, both staring at the floor.

 

“Listen,” Curtis finally said. “We haven’t had much of a chance to catch up so...”  He scooted a little closer and laid one of his gigantic warm hands on Adam’s shoulder. “How are you holding up? Not just with this, with everything.”

 

Adam shrugged. “I’m okay.”

 

“Adam.” Curtis raised an eyebrow. “Come on. It’s me.”

 

Adam thought about that for a while. “I’m... doing better,” he finally said. Curtis didn’t immediately call bullshit on that, so he went on. “I mean, if you know what happened on my side then you know the fucking bar could not _possibly_ be lower, but yeah. It’s getting better. It was pretty rough at first. Still is, I guess. There’s a lot of stuff that still freaks me out really bad and I still feel like I’m hanging by a thread some days and this shit Takashi keeps doing isn’t helping. And I’m still not used to just... being able to _relax_ once in a while. Really not used to actually having people my age to talk to again, _God--”_ Adam threw up his hands. “But hey, I’m in therapy so at least someone gets paid to listen to me bitch about it.”

 

“No shame in that.” Curtis squeezed his shoulder. “Dr. Sung?”

 

“Yeah.” Adam blinked up at him. “How’d you know?”

 

“Well... one, Cap--” Curtis shook his head and laughed. “Off duty. _Shiro_ mentioned that he’s seeing her, so I just guessed. And two... I’m seeing her.”

 

Adam felt his brain lock up for a second. Curtis? Seeing a therapist? One who specialized in invasion-related trauma shit? But then again, it made sense. Sure, he’d always been pretty zen, he’d always been really good at coping but an actual literal hostile alien invasion would fuck _anyone_ up. And he’d probably lost family, Houston _did_ get hit pretty hard.

 

And on top of that, Curtis was a communications officer. God, just thinking about what kind of horrible shit must have come over the comms when the Galra invaded made Adam feel sick to his stomach, how many last words and dying screams he would have--oh. Oh no. Oh _shit._ “Curtis... were you on duty when I--”

 

“When you died?” Curtis was quiet for a minute. Like he wasn’t sure he wanted Adam to know. Like he thought Adam didn’t already know. “Yeah.”

 

 _“Fuck.”_ Adam shook his head. “God. I’m sorry.”

 

“That, um.” Curtis stared at a spot on the floor. “That day messed me up pretty bad but hearing you... I _still_ have nightmares about that and we’re just friends, y’know? Imagine how _he_ felt when he found out...”

 

Adam thought about the way he’d died in this reality... and the way Takashi had died in his. Coming home from half a universe away just to find out the man he loved was dead? Adam didn’t have to imagine it. He knew from personal experience _exactly_ how Takashi would have felt...

 

...ah, shit.

 

No wonder that terrified-bee buzzing felt so fucking familiar.

 

“I’m an asshole,” Adam sighed, and Curtis squeezed his shoulder again.

 

“No you’re not. You just--”

 

“I _am._ Of course he’s going to freak out about me flying missions, I know he’s not sick anymore and I can’t even watch him eat greasy galley food without freaking out a little. I should have thought of that.”

 

“Okay, well.” Curtis laughed softly. “All that said... that’s your job and he knows that. And yeah, I agree he’s being a little overprotective and he definitely crossed a line today. Do you want me to say something to him?”

 

Adam actually considered it for a moment, but shook his head. “No. Keith looked like he was dragging him off to read him the riot act, Iverson got him, Uzonna’s probably going to take a chunk out of him if she hasn’t already, you don’t all need to gang up on him right now, and I need to talk to him when he gets in anyway. We... we’ve got a rule. We don’t go to bed mad at each other.”

 

“Attaboy.” Curtis patted him right between the shoulder blades. “That’s a good rule. I don’t remember you having it before, though.”

 

“We did on my side,” Adam said, “and I’m not about to throw it out the window now.” He shut his eyes. “Speaking of alternate reality stuff... can I ask you something about this one?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Did we...” Adam shook his head and laughed. “This is dumb. But did we ever, uh...” He felt his face heat up a couple of degrees. This was so dumb, but... “Did we ever do the platonic cuddling thing or--”

 

Curtis broke out in one of those huge goofy grins and held his arms out wide. “I was about to say, you look like you could use a hug.”

 

“Oh, thank God. Come here, you big cinnamon roll.” Adam met him halfway and just sort of flopped onto his shoulder. No hug could beat Takashi’s post-mission hugs _(you know,_ Adam’s brain prodded, _the one you didn’t give him this time?)_ but Curtis’ buddy cuddles came in a close second. “Do you have _any_ idea how much I missed this?”

 

“Aw.” One of Curtis’ big hands lit at the small of Adam’s back, the other between his shoulders, with just enough pressure and warmth to soothe Adam’s frayed nerves. “No cuddle buddies in space?”

 

Adam shook his head. “Zero cuddle buddies. I mean, I really did come from the Shit Timeline and if I had to pick the top ten absolute worst things about my reality that wouldn’t even come close to making the cut, but...” He huffed out a breath into Curtis’ sweater. “I had one junior officer I taught. Plus three cadets I taught including the one me and Takashi basically raised--”

 

Something about the idea of cuddling with Keith brought Adam a little too close to the edge of one of those holes in his memory for comfort. A hazy image came to him, of resting his head on Keith’s shoulder while Keith desperately tried to contact the Castle or the Paladins... when was that? Where were they? Where was everyone else?

 

No. Adam didn't know what was at the bottom of that hole in his memory, but he definitely didn't want to throw himself down it right now. He shook his head to clear it and focused on the present: wool against his cheek, the faint smell of cedar and sandalwood, a big warm hand rubbing his back, the alien but not unpleasant hum of his new arm in the back of his mind.

 

“And then,” he went on, and if there was a little crack or wobble in his voice Curtis had the decency to not mention it, “there was one princess and two other grown men and one of them was Coran and--I mean--you either love Coran or you’re wrong, y’know?” That got a soft little laugh out of both of them. “And he was nice and all, and he’d listen if I needed to vent but... there was a lot he just didn’t understand and we just... we didn’t connect like that.”

 

“Oh, I know.” Curtis made a little snorting noise. “It’s okay, we love him too but we don’t understand _him_ half the time either.”

 

“See, this is what I’m talking about. You get me.” Adam laughed softly. “And as much as I hate how he came to us... Thace was great, he understood what I’d been through and if it wasn’t for him I would have lost my _entire_ shit, he was my best friend out there--nothing against you, just--you weren’t there.”

 

“I got you.”

 

“But--I don’t know. I think maybe he...” Adam buried his face in Curtis’ shoulder, glasses be damned. “We had this one conversation... shit, I didn’t even put it together until now, I guess I was still in shock over Keith and worried about Lance and it just went right over my head. After that... we still talked a lot, but he kind of kept me at arm’s length. And it felt like he was doing it out of respect but--” He shook his head. “You know what, I have done nothing but piss and moan about my own problems all this time, how have _you_ been?”

 

“Hey, you’re kind of entitled,” Curtis laughed. “But... yeah, I’m doing better. It was pretty rough over here too.”

 

He went on for a while, telling Adam all about how his family had come through the invasion (his immediate family was pretty much okay, but there were a few losses and some he didn’t want to talk about at all). And how the chorus director was trying to get something going again, at least for the cadets, but they were having some trouble finding an accompanist that was both a) good and b) unlikely to have to ditch them to run around in space for weeks at a time. And about Veronica’s new girlfriend, and Adam had to remind himself yet again that some people were very different in this reality and Acxa was clearly one of them.

 

After a while, Adam heard the door on the other side of the bathroom open. A couple of seconds later, there was a soft knock on his bathroom door.

 

“He’s home,” Curtis said.

 

 _Fuck._ Well, here went nothing. “It’s open,” Adam said.

 

The bathroom door opened, and Takashi, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, stepped through. He looked tired--no, exhausted. Physically and mentally and emotionally drained. And Adam felt his heart break a little.

 

“Hey, baby,” Takashi said. “I--aww.” He gave the two of them a little tired smile. “I was wondering when you two were going to start that again. Surprised you didn’t call Veronica in here too, it’d be like academy days all over again.”

 

“Don’t know if her girlfriend would go for that,” Adam mumbled, sitting up.

 

“I should go,” Curtis said. “You two need to talk.”

 

Adam sighed and nodded. “Lunch tomorrow? If the shit doesn’t hit the fan, I mean?”

 

“Sure.” Curtis patted him on the shoulder and slid off the bed. He gave Takashi a nod on the way out. “Captain.”

 

“Off duty,” Takashi gently prodded. Curtis laughed as the door slid shut behind him, and Takashi took over the spot he’d been sitting on. “I’d tell you to go ahead and chew my ass out, but there’s not much of it left.”

 

“I’m not going to chew you out. I just... I just got a little perspective.” Adam pulled him in for a kiss that he desperately hoped would make up for missing that post-mission hug. “Look... I get it. I really do get it. I lost you too, remember? I understand why you keep doing this. But today... Takashi, there’s just no way to put this gently and I’m sorry, but you made the situation so much worse.”

 

“I know,” Takashi sighed, scrubbing a hand across his eyes. “I know I did. I’m sorry.”

 

“Okay, you actually admitted it this time, that’s something, but I’m still worried. You put me before the mission and you can’t do that. You _don’t_ do that. This isn’t like you. You know better. And after what just happened I’m scared absolutely _shitless_ that someone’s going to get hurt or killed next time you do it. Takashi...” He took both of Takashi’s hands in his. “You know what happened on my side. You know what happened to my Paladins. You know how bad it fucked me up. You don’t... you don’t want that on your conscience.”

 

“No... no, you’re right.” Takashi plunked his head back down on Adam’s shoulder. “And it shouldn’t have taken the Blades or Keith or Griffin or _anyone_ else speaking up about it. It sure shouldn’t have taken what happened out there today.” Takashi sighed and shook his head against Adam’s shoulder. “I should have just listened to you.”

 

There were so many things Adam could have said to that. Could have. Didn’t want to. Didn’t need to. So instead, he just held Takashi tight. “Wait. _Griffin_ called you out!?”

 

“Yeah. That’s not even the craziest part.” Takashi snorted. “He and Keith called a truce and _teamed up on me._ Remember how I told you I do that with everyone? Well, apparently I don’t, and they had data to back it up. They had debrief logs. They had comm logs. I kept waiting for them to pull out a damn whiteboard and start showing me pie charts and shit.”

 

 _“God.”_ Adam shook his head. Okay, maybe he wasn’t giving Griffin enough credit. “Shit. Wait. What about Iverson?”

 

“Oh...” Takashi didn’t say anything for a while. “That went... okay.”

 

“You’re not in trouble with him?”

 

“No.” Takashi snuggled into Adam’s shoulder and sighed. “He just...  he asked if everyone was okay, and then he said he wasn’t happy about what happened but everyone makes bad calls sometimes, and what was important was how I handled the fallout and what I learned from it. Said I gave him a chance to learn from one of his bad calls a while back and he wanted to return the favor.”

 

“Oh,” Adam said. That was a relief. Kind of scary, coming from Iverson, but a relief. “So... please tell me you learned something from this one.”

 

Takashi nodded.

 

“It’ll be okay. _I’ll_ be okay.” Adam reached up to pet the back of Takashi’s head. “You know I’ll call for help if I’m in over my head. But you’re going to have to trust me.”

 

“I _do_ trust you.” Takashi wrapped his arms around Adam’s waist and held on tight. “I do, just--with this--it’s hard.”

 

“I know.”

 

And he did know. He’d had to learn to trust Takashi to do what he needed to do when he got sick, after all--to wear that electrostimulator, to take his meds, to tell Adam when he felt a migraine coming on or needed to go to the doctor or something, to watch what he ate, to watch his caffeine intake, to listen to his body and not keep pushing when it was telling him to stop--all of that. And it had been hard not to hover over him, hadn’t it? Even now, even though Adam knew he was okay and they’d never have to worry about the damn disease again, even now it was hard to trust him to take care of himself. So... yeah. He understood. He really did.

 

“Maybe talk to the doc about that when we get back,” Adam suggested, and Takashi nodded.

 

“I will.”

 

Adam didn’t bother asking if he wanted to stay over, and Takashi didn’t bother asking if he could. He just wriggled his way around, back against the wall, and wrapped an arm around Adam’s waist, and Adam settled in against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

 

There were boundaries right now. When they slept together, the dress code was shorts and a T-shirt minimum (except when they’d visited Adam’s parents, where the dress code had been Adam in shorts and a T-shirt and Takashi in flannel pajamas and socks and an extra blanket on his side of the bed). No petting below the belt, no kissing below the neck. Even if they weren’t taking the physical stuff slow, Adam knew he was too exhausted for any serious fooling around and so was Takashi.

 

Still... Takashi’s breath was warm on the back of his neck, and Takashi’s arm around his waist pulled him in just close enough for Adam to press his back snug against Takashi’s chest, and despite everything that had gone wrong today, despite how angry Adam had been, it was easy to believe that everything really would be all right while Takashi held him like this.

 

* * *

 

Another day, another long routine patrol. At least Sendak’s surviving fans had cleared out of the sector for now.

 

Two hours in. Nothing to report. Adam checked in anyway.

 

Three hours. Nothing to report. He did anyway.

 

Four hours. More of the same. Adam called in, assured Takashi he was fine, and Takashi took his word for it. No argument, no complaint, no “maybe let’s send one of the Paladins out to meet you just in case,” nothing.

 

Five hours. He was over the hump, from here he’d be headed back to the _Atlas._

 

“Still doing okay?” Takashi asked.

 

“Still doing okay,” Adam reassured him, and Takashi took him at his word. Yeah. This was definitely an improvement.

 

Six hours. Adam took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, turned his music off, and opened the channel. _“Atlas,_ this is Black-2. Still quiet.”

 

“You sound like you’re ready for a nap,” Takashi said. “That boring, huh?”

 

“Beats the alternative.”

 

“Okay. Talk to you in an hour, then.”

 

“‘Kay.” Adam closed the channel and turned his music back on. ...wait.

 

_Wait._

 

Up ahead, was that--oh, what the fuck? Really? A wormhole? Dammit, he’d been doing so well today...

 

Adam ground his teeth, turned his music back off, and opened the channel back up. “Are you that bored, or are you really doing this again?”

 

Silence for a moment. “Doing... what?”

 

“I _just said_ it’s still quiet out here, so tell whoever you just opened that wormhole for not to--”

 

“Adam, what are you talking about?” There was something in Takashi’s voice that Adam really didn’t like. “We didn’t open a wormhole.”

 

And yet, there it was.

 

“If you didn’t...” And now Black-2 bristled at the sight of it, and the hair on the back of Adam’s neck was standing at attention. The _Atlas_ had the only teludav Adam knew of. “If you didn’t, _who the fuck did?”_

 

Takashi didn’t even say anything about his language over the comm.

 

If the _Atlas_ didn’t open that wormhole... oh, _shit._

 

The thing that came out of it didn’t answer Adam’s question, not exactly, but it gave him a pretty good idea. He’d only seen debrief footage, and he’d hoped to never see one of these bastards in person. Had it noticed him? He didn’t think it had, not yet, but if he could see it, it could see him if it turned the right way. No cover out here. Nothing but the darkness of space for the camo shield to blend in with, and even if that fooled it, it almost certainly had other ways of detecting his presence. The nearest planet was heavily inhabited and he couldn’t let it follow him there. If it noticed him, he was fucked.

 

Theoretically, he knew how to take one of these things down. It had a weak spot. But did Black-2 have the agility to hit it without getting knocked out? Adam didn’t know, and he decided he didn’t want to test that. _“Atlas,”_ he said, trying to keep his voice even and calm for Takashi’s sake, “I’m not a hundred percent sure but--”

 

Then the thing turned and even at this distance, even with all this deep empty space between them, Adam could feel it in his guts--his Lion and this horrible thing had made whatever passed for eye contact.

 

“No, scratch that. I _am_ a hundred percent sure that’s one of those Altean-powered Robeasts you’ve been talking about and I think it just spotted me.” Adam swallowed hard and grabbed the sticks as the Robeast advanced on him, closing the gap with terrifying speed. _Evasive maneuvers,_ he told Black-2, _keep it away from that planet if we can._ He felt no argument from his Lion. “I could use some help out here!”

 

 _“What!?_ Shit. Okay.” There was a pause, and when Takashi spoke again his voice was unusually calm. “We’ve got your position, Curtis is calling the Paladins back, we’ll be there soon as we can. Don’t try to fight that thing on your own.”

 

“You do _not_ have to tell me that,” Adam said, and it was true. They sure as hell didn’t have to tell Black-2. It was all they could do to stay just out of reach of its weapons. Black-2 could feel something familiar in this thing, familiar and _wrong_ and its reaction to that was the closest thing to genuine fear and revulsion Adam could ever remember feeling from his Lion. And if a Lion of Voltron was scared of this thing... well, that scared the absolute shit out of Adam.

 

A minor miscalculation. Would have been minor, in any other fight. Black-2’s particle barrier soaked the worst of the damage, but the weapons that thing had were--even contact with its particle barrier drained Black-2’s energy, and Adam swore he could even feel it draining _him._ His left arm felt heavy and slow, and his fingertips went numb for a second. That thing was draining the Quintessence out of his Lion, out of his arm, out of him--

 

He’d seen this before. He’d _felt_ this before.

 

Not this, exactly, but something very much like it. When they’d tried to fight Zarkon’s mech--the weapon he had, the Komar sword, this felt something like that. But it felt a lot more like something far, far worse.

 

_Haggar._

 

When she clawed him--she’d done something else to him. Poisoned him, maybe. He couldn’t remember. All he knew for sure was that he’d managed to get away from her somehow and that shit _still_ almost killed him, even the cryopod couldn’t completely undo what she’d done and he still had the scars--

 

 _(and so does Takashi,_ Adam thought darkly, _she did it to him too)_

 

This was not the time to fall down that hole. Not the time, not the place. This was going to have to wait.

 

He dodged another strike, barely. And another. And another. He thought he had an opening a couple of times, tried to go for the weak spot with his mouth cannon and his jaw blade, but the Robeast did this thing where it spun its weapons like a baton and turned them into a shield Adam’s weapons just bounced off of. That clearly wasn’t going to work, no point in wasting any more valuable time or energy trying it.

 

One more glancing blow off the particle barrier and that was almost more than they could take. Black-2 was exhausted--this thing was so fucking _fast_ and Adam couldn’t get a break, couldn’t disengage to let Black-2 heal up, could barely move his left arm, couldn’t do anything but try his best to figure out where the thing’s strikes were going to land and then _not be there,_ and the longer this went on the harder that was going to be. Black-2 couldn’t keep this up much longer, and neither could Adam, and if they caught one more hit from that weapon--

 

Another wormhole opened up to his starboard side and for a second Adam was sure another one of these bastards was going to come out of it because hey, _that_ might as well happen, right? But instead, what came out was the _Atlas,_ along with the MFE fighters and Voltron and Adam had never been so glad to see any of them.

 

“We’ve got this, Adam,” Takashi said, and this time Adam was in no shape to argue. “Come on home.”

 

He didn’t argue with that either.

 

* * *

 

Adam didn’t see much of rest of that battle, and he remembered almost none of what he did see. He barely remembered getting Black-2 into the Lions’ hangar and stumbling out of its mouth before his vision went dark and his legs gave out.

 

That thing’s weapon felt like what Haggar had done to him.

 

Adam didn’t want to remember this. Any of it. This was not a hole he wanted to jump down, not now, not ever, but the ground was crumbling under his feet and in the void of unconsciousness there was nothing for him to hold on to, nowhere for him to step that was safe, nothing to keep him from falling.

 

He remembered her wearing Takashi’s face as he’d last seen it before he left for Kerberos, pale and sick but with eyes that glowed yellow and teeth that were far too sharp and a grip on his throat that was far too strong. Jagged claws tearing into him. Blinding agony and burning cold radiating in waves from the three jagged gashes just under his rib cage. The smell of ozone and copper and rotting flesh.

 

As soon as he saw the wound he knew. She’d poisoned him. Infected him. Whatever was making his wound glow purple was going to kill him. He didn’t know what it was, venom or tainted Quintessence or black magic or what but he was sure he could feel it spreading through his body, into his blood, draining the life out of him from inside.

 

He didn’t remember how he got away from her, how he could have possibly survived long enough to get back to his Lion, much less fly it.

 

He remembered bits and pieces of what happened next--still not all of it, but enough. More than enough. The corrupted wormhole. The crash. Staggering into the cave, delirious with pain and fever, convinced that Takashi was in there and in danger. Chasing the imaginary sound of Takashi’s voice until his strength gave out. Lying there in the dust, curled up in a ball clutching at his wounded side, puking up blood as whatever Haggar had poisoned him with ravaged his body.

 

Keith’s hands, trying to pull him to his feet. Keith’s voice, pleading.

 

 _Come on. You gotta get up, we need to get you back to--no. Adam,_ no. _Remember? I told you he--no he’s not. Shiro’s not in there. I promise you he’s not. I was there, Adam. Okay? I was there when he died, listen to me,_ you know me, _you know I wouldn’t lie to you about something like that, whatever you think you’re hearing isn’t--oh fuck, you’re burning up--_

 

Keith dragging him back to their Lions. Drifting in and out of consciousness with his head on Keith’s shoulder while Keith tried to get hold of the other Paladins or the Castle.

 

_Hang on, Adam. Please. You’re the only family I’ve got left, please just--please stay with me._

 

He could still hear Takashi screaming for help. And he could still hear Haggar’s voice, could still hear it echoing in his mind even while he slept and healed in the cryopod.

 

_You could have been our greatest weapon._

 

He could still hear it now, even in another universe, as if she were right there hissing into his ear and maybe she really was--

 

_“Adam!”_

 

Something cold and slimy squirming in his chest with long clammy fingers wrapped tight around his lungs and squeezing his heart. Harsh white lights. The smell of antiseptic and Takashi’s aftershave. Strong, warm arms around him. Takashi’s voice, soft and soothing, whispering into the side of his head.

 

“Shh, shh, you’re okay, I’ve got you--no, he’s--he’s having a nightmare, he’ll be okay, he just--Adam, wake up, you’re safe, _please--”_

 

Then darkness again.

 

* * *

 

When Adam woke up again, the first thing he noticed was the mild ache in his left arm. He wiggled his fingers and felt tactile radio static crawl up them, into his hand, and into his forearm where it finally faded out. The ache faded with it, leaving only that strange, not-unpleasant ambient hum in the back of his mind and the warmth of another hand curled around it. He tried to open his eyes, grumbled annoyance as the light stabbed into them.

 

“Hey.”

 

That was Takashi’s voice, soft and soothing, and Takashi’s hand around his.

 

Adam opened his eyes halfway, blinked to clear the sleep out of them and give them a break from the light, and then finally got them all the way open. Takashi sat next to the bed, one hand still closed around his. He looked tired, but pretty much okay.

 

“Hey,” Adam croaked back. His throat felt raw, like he’d been screaming. “Water?”

 

“Here--” Takashi got up, drew him a cup from the sink in the corner, and helped him sit up to drink it. “Better?”

 

“Yeah.” He finished it off, and Takashi eased him back onto the pillow. He did feel better. Still a little weak and shaky, but better. “Tired.”

 

“I don’t blame you.” Takashi patted his shoulder. “That was a bad one.”

 

Adam shut his eyes again and groaned. Right. He’d had a nightmare. No, worse than that, he’d dug up some memories he would rather have left buried for good. _Fuck you forever, Haggar,_ he thought. _Or Honerva. Or whatever the hell you’re--_ ah, shit. The Robeast. “Did you--did you get it? Is everyone okay?”

 

“Yeah.” Takashi ruffled his hair. “To both. Everyone’s fine. We took it out, we’ve got the pilot. Allura wants to try and talk to him when he wakes up, hopefully it goes better than it did with the first one...”

 

A chill ran down Adam’s spine. All of that business had happened prior to him crashing into this reality but from what he understood, “better than it did with the first one” was a pretty low bar.

 

“So Haggar’s on her bullshit in this reality too,” he mumbled, shutting his eyes again.

 

“We can talk about what you know about her and her bullshit later if you want. I don’t want to leave you but... I really need to get back to the bridge for a little while,” Takashi said.

 

Adam couldn’t help cracking a little smile. “Pretty sure you’re pushing fourteen hours.”

 

“Ah-ah. Bona fide shit-vs.-fan event.” He leaned down and gave Adam a kiss on the forehead. “Try and rest for now. I’ll come back soon as I can, okay?”

 

“Mm.” Adam let out a soft sigh as Takashi pulled the blanket back over him. “Takashi...”

 

“What’s up?”

 

Adam opened his mouth, not sure what was going to come out of it.

 

How many of their enemies had now seen two Black Lions in the same place, or met a Black Paladin who wasn’t either of the ones they knew of? How many of them were in close enough communication with whoever was leading their faction to pass that interesting bit of intel on to them? None of this had bothered Adam too much up until now, but now he’d been spotted by someone that likely reported back to Haggar/Honerva/Whatever in some way or another, and he didn’t like it. They needed him and Black-2 in the fight, but... if their enemies figured out he’d come from another reality where things had gone the way they’d like to see things go here...

 

Sendak and Zarkon’s fan clubs had to have some ambitions beyond “conquer what we can, blow up what we can’t.”

 

Lotor’s faction was building Sincline knockoffs and hunting for trans-reality comet bits.

 

And now Haggar/Honerva/Whatever was throwing Altean-piloted Komar-wielding mechs through teludav wormholes.

 

If any of them found out that this second Black Lion that had come from an alternate reality where Voltron lost... the thought made Adam’s skin crawl.

 

“Told you I’d call in if I really needed help,” he said instead of any of that.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Takashi patted his shoulder and tried, without much success, to sound wounded. “Go back to sleep. You can chew my ass all you want later.”

 

Adam opened his mouth, then reconsidered what was about to come out of it. “Borderline inappropriate,” he said instead.

 

Takashi leaned down to kiss him again, then he turned the light off and left.

 

Adam lay there in the dark staring at the ceiling for a long time, trying to focus on his arm’s gentle hum in the present, trying not to think about the three jagged scars slashed into the right side of his abdomen, trying not to think about how Takashi would have gotten the same three scars.

**Author's Note:**

> Adam's patrol playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/alexbeefgnaw/playlist/2mX95SnS0GtEmgb8a4XOPZ?si=cADWANuOTfijlBysXtheMA
> 
> Intergalactic Underground Radio playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7gX0Vx9UkAfwZCQV41CBSI


End file.
